


Wings of Piano

by Emzalina



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Deemo AU, M/M, only slight joshneku, well in the first bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:36:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emzalina/pseuds/Emzalina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Composer is a lonely soul, forced to play music so his city doesn't crumble around him. He is so alone... he had forgotten speech, movements and how to shift his form. That is, until a small ginger boy falls into his arms.</p>
<p>Based off the story of the iPhone game Deemo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The small room filled with light was equivalent to a prison.

It was a tower from what it's occupant could tell; round from its towering peak to the solid stone floor. He had been trapped here for so long... He had counted the bricks and cracks in the walls many times over.

The walls were forged of 3426 cream coloured glowing bricks and 100 grey ones, the floor was crafted from the same material. 367 of the same grey bricks. In the middle of the room sat a lonely piano. It had once been black to offset the colour of the white room but now the paint had chipped away leaving it to look as grand as a mould ridden wall.

One figure stood in the room. He was a white light that reflected on the wall and shrouded in robes of shimmering silk and cloth. His own light shone through the fabrics. He was a flickering man with long limbs and an ever present frown. He had lost his ability to speak, to shift his form; even his ability interact with others. However he was made to play on, using the piano to appease the people surrounding his tiny world. He was a slave to his own people.

The job was a silent one. Day after day he played alone, scattering pages of old music around him as he went. Often, The Composer forgot the songs as soon as he played them and just continued to play. He would take the music from the hands his faceless Producer without even a second thought. The music had similar tunes, and never any singing, there was nobody who _could_ sing for Shibuya. Why would he want to trap someone there with him anyway? He was better being alone in his solitude so others could be happy.

This changed. The Composer had tried to open the window at the top of the tower with a stick that had been balanced in the library when he had heard a knocking.

With a slight frown, The Composer looked up, taking a few steps back to look through the window.

What he didn't expect was for a boy to tumble into the room. With a cry of fear, a child, maybe twelve in age fell through the window. The Composer was shocked. He did his best to reach up to catch the falling boy with long shimmering arms.

There was an 'oomf!' As a heavy weight landed in The Composer's arms. The Composer was surprised that his arms could hold the boy up. the child was as light as a feather, almost as if he was floating.

The boy had fallen through the now open window and after being caught, The Composer had placed on the top of the piano. The shining male sat on his stool and stared. His head tilted to the side in confusion as he looked back up to the window.

The child had small tears in his eyes. He looked to the window and down to the floor, shaking his head as his lip quivered slightly. The Composer tilted his head the other way before extending one hand to point at the boy and then to the window.

'You fell,' he wanted to announce however it was as if someone had glued his lips shut. He had not attempted speech in so long he now had an inability to even open his lips. The boy had flinched and tensed as soon as The Composer moved. His shoulders relaxed as he realized the figure was only pointing.

"Am I dead?" The boy stuttered. The question caused The Composer to drop his hand in confusion. He shook his head slowly looking up at the window again.

"Are you dead?" Was the next question. It was one question The Composer didn't know how to answer. 'Probably...' His mind screamed while his heart screamed that he was alive. The boy sighed at the lack of communication.

'It really depends on how you see _alive_ ' The Composer thought to himself. He himself was a being which was alive and thinking, however his body...

"I'm Neku." The other boy announced. "Nice to meet you," he held out a shaky hand for The Composer however the other just nodded at him instead, standing up. Neku looked slightly relieved his hand was not touched, he quickly hopped down off the piano looking around the room.

"Isn't there a door here?" He wondered, checking the walls again. He received another head shake from The Composer. The hand pointed back up to the window.

“The window?" Neku furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I have to get back out through the window?" The Composer let his hand drop and nodded.

"I don't understand." Neku shook his head. The Composer walked over then. A slow, graceful, almost floating gait which seemed beautiful but ghostly at the same time. Neku flinched back and held his breath. He found he could only exhale as the creature walked past him.

The Composer crouched next to his pile of music, picking out song after song he wanted to play. He piled them up next to Neku, asking him silently to pick a song.

The boy looked down hesitantly at first. The Composer started nodding vigorously at the first signs of hesitance and Neku eventually picked up a few song pages.

From the second Neku picked up the paper, the dynamic of the room changed. As soon as the page was placed before him, The Composer started to play. Neku looked on in wonder at the notes flooding the room. He sat down next to The Composer on the piano bench, watching the notes on the page as they were played on the keys.

They sat together always; sometimes Neku sang. The Composer loved to hear his voice and Neku loved seeing the bleached out features of The Composer's face light up at such a small thing.

The piano started to slowly restore itself as the two played together. The chipped paint had started to smooth back together and the keys that used to be somewhat off righted themselves. To Neku, even The Composer had started to glow more now. His features were easier to make out and suddenly Neku could see eyes. They were bleached white with no pupils, but Neku imagined that they could possibly be golden.

Eventually, they took a break so Neku could explore the tower.

A small dripping of water could be heard up a tiny stairwell. Neku followed the sound and found a small Library and an overflowing vase of water. He took a drink from the vase before he turned and noticed someone else.

A man, with white wings and a black outfit, stood in the middle of the room. his wings were long and heavy looking. As soon as Neku made a noise, the man turned. His face was expressionless; bleached white like that of The Composer so only an outline of his lips and nose could be seen. He shook his head at Neku before disappearing into a shimmering light. Tiny specs shimmered and flew upwards before flickering out when they reached the ceiling.

Neku made his way back to the original room to tell The Composer about the encounter. He walked, although his legs were screaming at him to run back and away. When he found the tall being, he was on his hands and knees on the floor next to the piano.

“What are you looking at?” Neku asked, walking over. He was confused at what he saw.

In the middle of the large wooden flooring behind the piano was a tiny stalk growing through a crack. It was a small wooden sprout with two small green leaves. The Composer seemed excited at its existence while Neku remained confused. The Composer started pointing to the window again and then to the sprout.

‘It will grow,’ he wanted to say ‘you can climb a tree,’ but Neku couldn’t understand his wordless pointing and stood up again. The Composer kept on pointing until he realized Neku's mind had moved onto something else. He felt a little downtrodden that the boy didn't understand him, but The Composer wondered what Neku was now thinking about.

“You know, I never know what to call you,” Neku started, walking back over to the piano. His voice echoed in the empty space, he was playing with his fingers, picking at the skin around his nails. “I've been thinking of things, but you must have a name, right?”

The Composer nodded slowly. Who didn't have a name? he used to have a human name before he had been trapped in the tower. For many many years now he had only ever heard his Producer call him The Composer. But he was sure he had had a name at some point in his life.

“I wondered about calling you the Player, or The Music Man,” Neku spoke aloud. The Composer couldn’t tell if Neku was speaking to him or just speaking his thoughts out loud. “I wondered if there was anything you liked to be called,” Neku sat down on the piano bench. The Composer moved to follow him in long strides only seconds later.

They sat next to each other on the bench in silence before The Composer looked at one of his sheets of music and tapped on one of the lines.

“For The Composer,” Neku read aloud, looking up “is that it? The Composer?” Neku received a nod in answer.

It was silent then. The Composer couldn’t talk and Neku had nothing to say.

Eventually, The Composer started to play again. His long, white, bony fingers danced over the keys quickly, making beautiful melodies. He played for hours, one song leading into another. Sometimes, Neku would sing while other times he would just watch.

The songs were beautiful piano sounds that always filled the whole room. The sounds echoed off the walls, bouncing around and by some magic, creating a melody of other sounds to accompany the piano. Every time Neku heard a violin or a flute, his head whipped up. He would smile up at the ceiling that seemed to glow a large amount of bright colours.

The Composer’s music was magical, Neku decided. How could he believe anything else with what he was seeing all around him? The room lit up when he played and the whole of the tower seemed to hum with some kind of happy energy. The Composer quickly realised that this must be the difference that wanting to play makes over being forced to play.

Hours went by, possibly days. Neku wasn’t counting anymore. He had stopped feeling hungry and thirsty some time when they were playing. He continued listening to The Composer play until The Composer took a break and shrugged at Neku.

‘I played all my songs,’ he tried to say. ‘I need to talk to my Producer,’ The Composer opened his mouth to try and speak, but the only noise that came out was a soft ‘ah’. At that he stood, stepping over the piano bench and away from Neku, up the stairs into the library.

Neku got up when The Composer did, following him slowly to the top of the library stairs. When he got there, the angel man from before was back. He handed a stack of papers to The Composer, nodding with a small smile as the other started to skim the titles.

The man was wearing a frown still and Neku could tell from the lines in his bleached face that he was quite a bit older than The Composer. His outfit hadn't changed, it was still the black outfit and Neku realized that he wouldn't see the man's feet. His long trousers seemed to fade out at the end.

“Who are you?” Neku asked after watching the exchange between the two. The Composer and Producer looked up at Neku.

There was a pause as the two looked over to Neku, The Composer looked slightly confused while The Producer just looked annoyed. Neku almost asked for an explanation, before the man in black started to move forward,talking to Neku.

“Composer,” the winged man announced, pointing to the other. Neku nodded, agreeing with the statement. “Producer,” the man spoke again. He pointed to himself this time and Neku nodded in understanding. “Intruder,” Was the third word uttered. This time he was pointing at Neku but looked to The Composer.

“I-intruder?” Neku asked in surprise. “I fell in! It’s not like I'm here on purpose!”

“Intruder!” The Producer repeated loudly, he was turned to Neku this time and walked forward to him so he was standing nearly in front of him.

The Composer moved quickly so he was suddenly in front of Neku with his arms out on either side. He was shielding him. The tall, white body didn't cast a shadow over Neku; The Composer glowed too brightly for that to happen.

The white figures head shook back and forth quickly as he looked at his Producer.

“N-no.” he managed to utter out to the amazement of everyone around him. The Composer didn't let his sudden speech confuse him though, instead he needed to get the point across.

“Neku.” He said to The Producer. “Composer. Producer. Neku.” He counted off. “Neku is friend”

Neku stared up at the figure that was hovering over him. The Composer’s voice mesmerised him.  it was smooth and soft but loud enough to fill a whole room with echoes.

The Producer was taken aback by it.

“Yes boss,” he uttered before disappearing in a flash of light. Neku continued staring at the spot as sparkles fell from where the winged man stood. The Composer didn't say anything more. He just turned around, new music in hand, and went straight back to his piano bench.

Neku followed silently. He wondered about the exchange, but he didn't know how to bring it up to The Composer. He wondered if The Composer could still speak or if he actually had had the ability all along and just pretended he didn’t.

The ideas of The Composer lying were quickly extracted from Neku’s head as the other smiled at him. The Composer’s white smile was so serene that Neku couldn’t help believing everything The Composer told him.

They sat down on the bench quietly, and once again, The Composer started to play.

The tree grew rapidly, and before either knew it, it had grown above the heads of everyone who inhabited the tiny tower. The Composer smiled as Neku started dancing around the tree when realisation of its growth dawned on him.

“I can get home! Its growing so quickly!” he smiled. The Composer could only smile back. Seeing Neku happy made him happy, he only wished his voice could return to him.

Since his few words with The Producer, The Composer had not been able to speak a word. Neku had told him that it had probably just been a fluke, however The Composer could see he became impatient with the silence of the tower. Neku tried his hardest not to seen upset at the quiet. After all, The Composer was doing all of this for him, he wanted to be mindful of the glowing figure’s wishes

‘I wish I could talk to you Neku,’ The Composer sighed in his head.

The two had sat back down on the piano stool now. The Composer let his fingers dance along the ivory keys, hitting note after note while Neku just stared on in amazement. By The Composer's design, the piano notes were now being completely eclipsed by the reverberating noise from multiple other instruments. Long sad notes slid off the end of the violin’s stings while notes were fired out of flutes quickly, like bullets flowing through a gun.

‘…for Neku.’ The Composer thought to himself suddenly. ‘I want to write for Neku,’

The figure closed his eyes and slowed his fingers. The sound changed, instead of flutes, an odd chorus of trumpets sounded. The Composer thought he heard a harp, or maybe the flute was still there..? Either way, he never opened his eyes. He let his own creativity and vision flow from his soul to his fingertips, expressing the words he still could not say.

He thought of Neku. Of his smile, laugh and singing voice. He thought of the amazement on the other’s face as the tree had grown and the absolute awe of the notes he played.

The music was harsher than what he was used to playing. The sweet undertones of the piano rang through the chaotic overpowering roar echoing off the walls. Unknown instruments played, sounds Neku had never before heard, and he loved them all.

Neku looked to the top of the tower, to where the tree blocked almost all the light from view. The walls flashed with each beat of music. Pink and yellow hues dances around each other on the tall walls and ceiling, interrupted only by the speckles of stray light that fought through the tree. The window Neku had fallen through was hidden now. A portion of the fame could still be seen behind the branches, however that was all. The light that shone through onto the walls looked like a speckled freckly mess of stars. The light shone brighter than the pink and yellow. It bounced off the wall like they were made of crystal and onto the tree itself creating more twinkling lights.

The sight of it made Neku smile widely. The scene was so picturesque, he couldn’t hel himself. Neku slid off the bench and bolted up the stairs into the library.

‘Neku?’ The Composer wanted to call as he watched the other sprint off. He didn't want to follow, but he was curious to what Neku had run off to do. In such a small tower, there wasn’t much.

‘maybe he just needed the bathroom really bad…’ The Composer shrugged to himself. In his head, he wondered about the location of The Producer. After the little run in with Neku the other day The Composer didn't know if Neku would be in danger around The Producer or not.

For that reason, The Composer was wary, but he didn't want to treat Neku any less than a guest. He could run around as freely as he wanted and go wherever he wanted to be in the tiny tower of light. The Composer just wanted to make sure he was safe.

‘Well, he can’t really run into much trouble in a sealed off tower’ The Composer thought to himself. ‘He’s safe enough’

Neku came back a few minutes later, with a tattered old notepad and colours in his hands. He smiled up at The Composer and lay down on the floor next to the piano.

“I wanted to draw the colours,” he explained. “I like to draw, and I think that the sky is pretty right now.” To The Composer, Neku sounded more like a child right now than he had any other time that he had spoken. He started to draw, and The Composer couldn’t help but wonder how old Neku actually was.

The Composer had not seen a human in years, much less a young human. Maybe he’d need to ask his Producer when he had the time. But then, Neku might bring the subject up. Much to The Composer’s satisfaction, Neku started talking to him again as he drew.

“How old are you, Composer?” Neku asked, looking up with bright, wide eyes. The Composer opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to make the words tumble out. Neku looked away again, back to his colouring. The Composer leaned down too, reaching out an open hand for the pencil. Neku gave him the green one, and flipped to the back of the page he was drawing on.

The Composer drew a three digit number, filling up almost the whole page, before handing the pencil back. Neku’s eyes widened.

“I thought you were a lot older than that,” he said, looking over to The Composer again, “it doesn’t really matter.” Neku admitted. “I'm 12.” The Composer just nodded.

There was silent for a little while then, Neku was drawing and The Composer had stopped playing to watch Neku. The lights were only faintly glowing now, but Neku was almost finished drawing them anyway. He had started drawing The Composer into the picture.

“Were you human at one point?” Neku asked as he flipped the page. The Composer nodded. He leaned down and sat next to Neku on the floor. Neku sat up, looking right at The Composer. He thought the elegant being looked wrong sitting cross-legged on the floor, but didn't say anything about it.

“Did you die?” Neku tilted his head as he asked. He got another nod in reply “Did it hurt?” Neku whispered this time; he curled up slightly, pulling his knees to his chest. The Composer was quick to shake his head, ready to lie to Neku about death to make the boy more at ease with himself and his probable fate.

“What did you look like?” Neku asked through his knees, “how old were you?” The Composer took the pencil again. He scribbled the number 15 at the top of the page before he started to draw. The scribbles of lines turned into the image of a teenage boy with medium length hair and a smirk on his face. His clothes were old fashioned; an old button up shirt and some black trousers. They were still something someone would wear now from what Neku could tell.

“You were pretty.” He announced with a smile. The Composer smiled too, nodding sadly. He stood up then, moving back to the piano stool and beginning to play once more. Neku turned back to the drawing, and began to draw himself next to The Composer.

The music seemed sorrowful but nostalgic to Neku, he wanted to remember something, but it was just outside of his head. The ceiling started to turn pink, but Neku sure if that meant it was dusk now or if it was the music’s affect.

Neku's drawing was painted with the pink light, as himself and the human Composer looked back through the paper.

The actual Composer looked down at Neku with the same expression shown on the page. He held out a hand, helping Neku up onto the piano bench next to him. The picture came too, and became balanced on the piano stand for the two to always see.


	2. Chapter 2

“N-Ne” The Composer tried as he walked down the stairs from the library. He looked around for the smaller boy but was unable to see him. The Composer made his way around the piano and finally realised he could see Neku at the base of the tree.

The Composer found Neku’s positioning to be odd. His knees were curled up to his chest as he stared down at his closed, shaking fists. The posture confused him, why would Neku be sitting like this?

“N…” he tried again, and the boy suddenly took notice. The Composer drifted over quickly in alarm at the tears in Neku's eyes. He crouched before him, tilting his head in question.

“It’s dying…” Neku whispered innocently. He looked down to his fingers. His knuckles were pale from squeezing his fingers together too tightly. He uncurled them gently, allowing The Composer the chance to see three half dry blackened leaves. The leaves were filled with tiny holes but also seemed slimy; like some kind of sickness oozed out of them.

The Composer tilted his head, looking at the leaves curiously. He reached out a hand, hoping to touch the leaf in Neku’s grasp. He was delighted when the boy didn't move away from his hand, but he felt saddened as he touched one of the leaves. He could hear broken music coming from them, all wrong notes and snapped piano strings. The leaves crinkled, drying up almost as soon as they were touched. Neku and The Composer shared looks. Neku’s eyes had become clouded with tears while The Composer could only shake his head.

“How will I get home if it dies?” A tear-thick voice asked. The Composer was at a loss. He didn't know how to comfort Neku. He couldn’t speak about it yet; he was still trying to learn. How could he do anything the way he was?

Neku scooted closer to The Composer then. He lay his head on the other’s shoulder and let out a half sobbing sigh. The Composer was surprised at first, but was quick to regain his composure enough to wrap an arm around Neku to pull the boy closer. The shimmering being was confused when Neku turned and buried his face into his chest. The Composer came to the conclusion that Neku must have been crying. That is, if the damp feeling where Neku’s face had been was anything to go by. All The Composer could do at that point was shuffle Neku further into his arms.

The Composer started to slowly rock Neku back and forth like a baby to comfort him. He hummed some of the melodies from their time playing and soon Neku dropped off to sleep. Neku remembered hearing the piano start again just as he was laid down near the bottom of the tree. Sorrowful notes and lullabies flowed out around Neku as his consciousness flickered into a deep sleep.

Time passed and the tree only got sicker, the leaves fell in colours of orange and slimy black, sticking to the floor and making a mess.

The sight of the tree started to depress Neku. He had stopped being able to document the passage of time; he could only count the millions of songs they played. Neku began to sing to every song. He sang his heart out while The Composer started to re-play old songs.

The producer had started to send two copies of music. The Composer didn't know whether to be glad that The Producer was finally accepting Neku, or distressed.

Why was Neku being here being treated as a long term development? The Composer asked himself. Still, The Composer was glad The Producer wasn’t trying to hurt Neku anymore.

Sometimes, when they ran out of music, Neku would try to teach The Composer to speak. His progress was slow but there was progress nonetheless.

“Ne…ku,” The Composer beamed he tried again, repeating the words he was taught over and over and making Neku smile as well. It was the first time Neku had smiled in a little while. He didn't smile often anymore.

His repetition of Neku started to pick up and soon it wasn't Neku's name just the word 'cat'. Neku almost wanted to laugh at the string of words. 'Catcatcatcatcatcat' The Composer breathed. He was speaking quicker now and smiling widely as the words just blended into sounds. The stream of words came to an end and The Composer smiled at Neku for a minute before the smile slipped from his pale white lips.

He reached over, putting a hand on one of Neku’s own. The boy looked up slowly, looking up mostly through his eyelashes.

“Can…Stay.” The Composer breathed. He smiled. The Composer was confused at the echoing smirk on Neku’s face. He wasn’t happy, his eyes were too dull. He looked like he wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“I might have to,” Neku announced with a soft bark of laughter. He turned away from The Composer, standing up and making his way up into the tree branches to a small alcove the tree made. It was small, but the boy fit himself comfortably between the branches. A perfect fit, just for Neku it seemed.

The Composer looked up, watching Neku’s legs as they swung back and forth from his part of the tree. From his perch, Neku sang. The words from one of the earlier songs tumbled from his lips, sounding perfect even without the piano.

The Composer saw this as ‘lesson over’ and sat back down at his piano. He began to play the song Neku was singing. The other sang louder as the music started. He didn't come down, but they continued like that for a few songs. Eventually, Neku did come down.

-

There was no grandeur, no big recovery. Of course, the tree did die. The trunk started to turn black and peel. The already dropped leaves made the floor slippery. The tree branches reached up, mocking Neku as they tickled against the window pane.

The light that was once blocked by branches now filtered all the way through to the ceiling. It destroyed the colours that Neku used to see there. The multitude of wonder Neku had loved became a brightly lit room and now there were no shadows to hide the magic he wished for.

The realization of normality made tears fall from Neku’s eyes. He pulled his knees up to try and hide his face. He was back up on his perch in there tree while The Composer played. The music wasn’t helping enough for him to feel better right now, so Neku didn't move or even sing anymore.

It took a while, but eventually, Neku did jump down. The pale, frowning Composer moved over for Neku to sit on the bench. Another song began; a repeat from a while ago. This time, Neku started to play on the piano too. He copied the notes being played on a higher octave, delighting The Composer as he continued to play.

They played together for the first time. Neku never realized the songs were passing completely in a blur. He was enjoying this new feeling so much. Some songs were new and some old, but Neku was doing very well at keeping up with what needed to be played. Eventually, Neku took his fingers off the keys and just looked up at The Composer. He turned and The Composer moved to kneel down before Neku. The shimmering figure took Neku's hands in his. Neku couldn’t help but wonder why he was blushing at this position.

"Composer?" The kneeling figure tilted his head to the side.  "When did you start looking like this?" Neku asked. His eyes were wet and the tears clumped his eyelashes together as he looked down from The Composer.

"Death..." The Composer sighed. Neku's eyes widened, The Composer's voice still amazed him, it filled the whole space but it was still right there next to him.

"Did you used to be able to change?" Neku lay back on the bench with his legs up. The Composer sat with his back against the bench now.

"Could... For short time" he managed to get out.

"Could you now?"

"Trying..."

"Oh..."

There was silence then. Neku stared up to the blank ceiling while The Composer tried to imagine Neku's singing in his head. The Composer tried to put words in Neku's voice, imagining his own songs for once. Neku has started humming a mindless tune and soon The Composer could see the hummed words in his head as music notes on paper

The notes bounced around like gazelles in his head. They created their own melodies, ones different from the sombre music The Producer always sent. He wanted to cheer Neku up. He wanted to show him that the place they were could be a welcoming place to live. He wanted Neku to know that he didn't need to worry about going home.

"Could you transform into your human form?" Neku asked, continuing the earlier conversation.

"Used to," The Composer sighed. "Can't remember.... Name."

"Your old name?" The Composer nodded at that. "You can't remember?" Neku tilted his head as The Composer shook his head no. The boy noticed that The Composer wasn't shining anymore like he used to. Neku could make out specific features now. He had faint, glowing white hair. The distorted image of The Composer had sharpened so much. Neku could see the flick and curl of his hair now too. There was a stray curl of hair that bounced with every shake of that bleached white head. Neku was surprised he had noticed. It was something so small, but something he enjoyed noting nonetheless.

"I wish I could've seen you," Neku sighed. He got up then, explaining that he was going to read for 'a few songs'. The Composer just nodded and wondered when it was that Neku had started measuring time in songs instead of time.

From then, The Composer started to practice changing his form. He had almost got it a few times but he would end up hearing Neku singing and getting distracted.

The other had taken to singing to the tree every day to see of that could revive it. Sometimes, he would play a short melody on the piano, obviously ones he had seen The Composer play in the past. He wasn't actually too bad at it. The Composer thought that maybe Neku could be a good piano player if he actually learned to play the different chords and notes.

The Composer tried to teach him next time they were playing. Every time he tried, Neku just started to laugh in embarrassment. When his fingers touched the keys, they would hesitate. It took a while but eventually The Composer realized Neku was shy about playing In front of him.

"It would be odd," Neku told him with a small smile. "Showing my amateur skills to someone as skilled as you..."

He used to show Neku the chords and the different sounds a piano could make and eventually Neku started to learn to play on his own. He practiced when The Composer was busy, and he was happy to see his own skills improving over time.

The Composer spent a lot of his time thinking while Neku played. They had become comfortable in their daily routine of living together. Their days were interrupted only by the occasional visit of the producer. He was comfortable enough to leave Neku to do what he wants.

Sometimes, he would go to the library on the past in hopes of finding himself in ancient books. Neku joined The Composer once or twice. He was always reading books to do with gardening and trees. He stopped coming when the tree branches started to crack. The bark was so dry. He had started to pick up the branches and stack them under the window.

The Composer found it a little upsetting that Neku wasn’t letting go of his idea of leaving. He knew the tree was dead, why hold onto an empty dream?

 It had been almost one hundred songs after Neku had started stacking the tree parts. The Composer had looked around for Neku and found him crying into the piano. Neku sobbed, his face was hidden as he pressed it into the piano keys. He was breathing heavily, sobbing uncontrollably. The Composer didn't know what to do. He walked over and put a hand on the top of Neku’s head. The boy stopped suddenly and looked up. The Composer's smile seemed to comfort him slightly, but not enough to stop the tears falling down Neku's face.

The pale shimmering hand made its way down to Neku’s shoulder. When Neku didn't turn around again, the hand made its way to Neku’s own hand. Long fingers curled around Neku’s own and he finally did look up at The Composer. There was a slight sad smile on the Ageless face and Neku was surprised as The Composer leaned forward to kiss his forehead. The Composer's lips felt like butterfly wings on Neku's forehead. They were so soft and careful that Neku couldn't stop himself from closing his eyes and sighing.

"It will be alright..." The Composer sighed. Leaning up and letting his hand card through Neku's hair. Neku frowned up at The Composer with big wet eyes,

"I can stay here, right?" He asked The Composer nodded vigorously.

“You can,” The Composer smiled. He moved away from Neku then. He smiled at the confusion on Neku’s face, the boy’s arms moved to follow The Composer as he moved further away. “I remembered.” The Composer told him. Neku looked even more confused at that.

“You remembered?” he asked. Neku tried to move closer but The Composer just shook his head, trying to get Neku to stay where he was.

"Let me show you," The Composer breathed, Neku watched as The Composer stood in the middle of the room with his arms out. He looked at Neku with a soft smile.

"Joshua." He told Neku. "Joshua and Neku," he smiled wider at their names together before closing his eyes. Neku watched from where he sat in awe as a bright blue light overpowered the figure of The Composer. The figure shrunk, growing smaller until it was Neku's height. Neku stood with his mouth open and wide eyes, he couldn't look away from The Composer's glowing body.

The light eventually dimmed and instead of the shimmering pale composer, stood a boy with the stars in his skin.

Neku took a moment to wonder where The Composer had disappeared to. He almost asked the boy before him where The Composer was. He looked around, searching for The Composer and the boy in front of him sighed with a small smile.

The boy who stood there was beautiful. His skin was freckled with tiny silver stars that were like freckles that shimmered in the light as he moved. His hair was silver, something that Neku wondered was to do with age or stress. His hooded purple eyes shone under long dark eyelashes, framed by the soft curves of a young teenagers face. His cheeks were rosy, like he was slightly embarrassed. He held an arm in front of his body as he looked down then up to Neku.

"Neku..." He smiled, walking forward slightly. He let the band he was holding in front of him slip behind him.

"You're..." Neku asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the person now chest to chest with him.

"My name was Joshua." He smiled. "I am The Composer."

The boy didn't have time to get his words out before Neku had pulled him into a hug by two arms tight around The Composer's neck.

"Joshua... Your name is Joshua..." Neku repeated to himself with a smile.

"Neku... Stay with me here?" The Composer- Joshua- asked as he let his own arms wrap around Neku. "We can play the piano every day; we can read and play games together forever..." Neku started sniffing and Joshua pulled away slightly to see what emotions were on his face.

Neku was smiling though. Tears were in his eyes as he nodded his head.

"I'll be okay to stay here." He told the other, "I was afraid at first, I felt like I was being trapped here. The tree... It didn't grow..." Joshua frowned at the fact Neku was bringing that up again. "But now...I want to stay with you, you're so kind and so fun to be around..." Joshua smiled widely at what Neku was saying. Neku smiled back. "I think... I could stay here with you forever," Joshua moved quickly, leaning his head on Neku's shoulder in relief. Neku felt older than he was as he started to stroke The Composer's silky silvery hair.

"I love you," Joshua sighed "you are so dear to me," Neku smiled he leaned up on tiptoes and kissed Joshua's cheek. The Composer was surprised at the action but ended up grinning when Neku wound his arms around him again.

The two stayed there from then on. Neku never grew, but neither did Joshua. Neku was there to keep him human, and Joshua tried to keep himself human at all times for Neku.

It was never perfect, but then when is anything? Neku eventually learned to enjoy seeing Joshua's human form as much as he had his composer form. Neku would never say, but he loved it when Joshua slipped up and grew into his composer form.

The producer still bought songs, but they were stacked up next to the piano; Joshua and Neku made their own music now.


End file.
